Rule #11: Man-Boob Dads, Please Breastfeed Your Children

Got man boobs? Got milk!

They have been your fleshy pontoons of shame since you gained a little weight in college. You’ve worn loose-fitting shirts to accommodate their wiggle and conceal their girth. You’ve avoided swimming pools, public beaches, and most situations where any bare-breasted move meant they’d wave at strangers like beauty-pageant contestants. They are like two guests who’ve taken up residence on your chest and won’t leave—ever.

Yes, we’re talking about your man boobs.

So, dads, why not put these guests to work and turn a double-booby negative into something singularly positive? That’s why you should give your lactating wife a break from time to time and breastfeed your children.

Who’s Feeling Weak and Saggy Now?

Studies have shown that men can actually produce breast milk. In fact, men who simply put their minds to producing milk usually did after a few days. And others have unburdened their wives by receiving hormone treatments. The result? The milky breasts flowed like Bessie the Bovine in no time.

Besides feeling good about your man boobs for the first time in your life, the benefits of breastfeeding your children are endless:

Don't let the strange looks from your children get in the way. Remember, you ARE the boss of them.

Kids loved being grossed out.

When your older children walk in and see Baby Bradley latched to your hairy chest, they’ll erupt into laughter and brim with curiosity. Your antics will be rewarded with your children’s respect as they egg you on with cries of “That’s disgusting! Do it some more!”

Two glorious words: nursing bra.

These don’t have to be mom’s best friend any longer, as they have more padding and support than a mattress at the Ritz. Indeed, for the first time since you developed your man boobs, you’ll have an apparatus that delivers better posture, provides relief for your aching back, cradles and compresses your excess flesh, and literally allows you to stand proud.

You’ll have bragging rights over other dads when it comes to baby bonding.

When Gary, the ever-doting father next door, mentions that he spent the weekend teaching his kids Tibetan sign language, finding shelter for homeless goats, and building the world’s largest model of the Vatican out of fingernail clippings, you can turn to him and say, “Gee, Gary, that’s wonderful. But I actually have love-bite marks on my nipple from when I tried to peel little Bradley off my chest this morning.” There’s no way Gary can top this, even if he summons up a few drops of milk in his own man bosoms out of shear jealousy.